To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence 7)

This had been a bad idea.

He watched as Jenna moved around his living room. It was a small, one-bedroom apartment. The living, dining, and kitchen areas were all open plan so he could easily see her as he grabbed a couple of beers out of his fridge. He grimaced as he scrounged around for any food to offer. A block of cheese and a couple of wrinkled tomatoes looked back at him.

She was still too thin. Maybe he should order a pizza. Then he could make certain she ate.

As he walked slowly towards her, he studied his apartment, trying to see it through her eyes. Sparse and cold were the two words that came to mind. At least it was clean, thanks to his next-door neighbor, who he paid to clean it once a week.

The living room held a couple of leather armchairs and a huge TV that was secured to the wall. No pictures or plants or colorful cushions to break up the white paint, gray carpet, and black furniture.

He grimaced then walked over and handed her a beer.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything else to offer.”

She smiled. “That’s okay, I don’t drink much anyway.”

“I’m gonna order a pizza. Is there anything you don’t like?”

She turned to look out the window. This apartment had one thing going for it and that was the view. “Wow, this is amazing.” She looked out across the Dallas skyline. “Beautiful. Oh, I’m not hungry, thanks. But you go ahead.”

He decided to order a couple of pizzas. She was going to eat something, even if he had to feed her himself. His cock stirred at the thought of her kneeling between his legs as he fed her.

Shit. He had to stop this. This was Jenna. Not a sub from the club. Not that he ever brought any of the subs back to his place. He never brought anyone here. He quickly ordered the pizza then turned back to find her watching him.

“You don’t have any pictures of Amelia,” she said with soft eyes.

He glanced away, feeling like a fraud. She probably thought it was because he was still mourning or some such shit. Truth was, he couldn’t look at that bitch’s face without feeling murderous.

“I get it.”

“Do you?” he asked harshly.

Her eyes widened and she took a step back. Fuck. The last thing he wanted was to scare her.

“Jenna, shit. Sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid and insensitive. I’ve never really lost anyone. I mean, I lost Amelia too, but I didn’t love her like you did. We were never really that close, and, well, I’m sorry. That was a really stupid thing to say.”

He had to turn away before he did something idiotic. Like try to shut her up by pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Or by telling her the truth, but that was something he never intended to talk about. Especially not with Jenna.

“Another beer?” he asked.

He turned back to find her staring at her still full bottle and knew he’d drunk that last one too fast. He’d gotten rid of all the hard liquor in the apartment because one scotch had soon turned into four or five. He didn’t like how out of control he’d felt or how he’d come to rely on alcohol to get him to sleep so he’d thrown it all out and now when he couldn’t sleep he went to the club or the gym. It was healthier, at least physically.

“No, thanks.”

He sat on one of the chairs, hoping to put her more at ease. She looked wide-eyed and on edge, like she was thinking of bolting. Not that he could blame her. He was acting like an ass.

“So, what happened in your session with Lacey today?”

She shrugged. “I don’t feel like talking about it.” But she came over and sat in the chair next to him. She ran her finger around the rim of the bottle, not drinking from it.

“Talking can help.”

“Yeah? How’s that working for you?” she challenged.

He raised one eyebrow, surprised by the belligerent note in her voice.

She looked away. “Sorry, don’t mean to be rude. Just a bad day.”